SOAP, not Hope!
by SlyNellie
Summary: My raunchy, ribald, satirical take on the super sucky season two finale; y'all have been warned!


"**Don't you dare touch him!"**

Suddenly startled awake, Dr. Maura Isles realizes she is alone in her bed naked instead of kneeling beside her gravely injured (should be totally dead) Unlucky Charm Mobster Sperm Donor.

An overly dramatic female vocal track accompanied by a piano blares from the radio alarm clock. Maura sits up and grimaces.

"Ugh, what is that incredibly cloying song?"

"_Good morning, Beantown – sorry about that last tune, we were contractually obligated to play it – yet another quiet night in the city… just like the Celtics' offense."_

"Wait… why isn't Paddy Doyle all over the news?"

"_Now, let's get your day started off right with Grace Potter and the Nocturnals' Paris (Ooh La La)…"_

"Ooh, finally, a decent song."

Maura stumbles out of bed to get dressed but not before she hears water streaming in the bathroom.

"Is there someone in my shower? – I hope it's not Angela… or Tommy."

Maura's curiosity gets the better of her as she slowly makes her way into the bathroom. There is a dark figure behind the steamed up glass door. Taking a deep breath, she quickly throws it open.

"Jane!"

Wearing nothing but aviator shades and a gold chain, Detective Jane Rizzoli flashes a big toothy grin as she washes up.

"Ay-o, baaabe!"

"What are you doing?"

"You as usual, now get over here."

Jane yanks Maura inside the shower with her.

"WAIT – don't touch me, don't you dare touch me!"

Rizzoli looks through the fourth wall, lowers her shades, and winks.

"Way too late for that."

"I'm really mad at you, Jane."

"Why, 'cuz I made you scream six times instead of seven?"

"You shot my father."

"The only Isles I shot in the last 24 hours was you… in the face… repeatedly…"

"You killed Paddy Doyle right in front of me."

"No, no… don't really remember doin' dat – but, I do remember doin' dis…"

Jane grabs Maura's ass with both hands and gives a little love slap.

"Please stop and give me a minute to figure this all out."

"Didja at least bring the friggin' soap?"

"Soap?"

"Yeah, you're outta soap… I yelled at you in bed to bring me more soap."

"OH, SOAP… not Hope."

"Huh?"

"I thought I heard the name Hope."

"Well, I sure hope Hope has the soap, my little deaf dope… with huge bazooms."

"This is all too confusing, even for me."

"Never mind about the soap… I know you like me dirrrrrrty."

Jane tries to rub against Maura but is pushed away.

"Aay!"

"Oh, dear God… this must all be a dream – I'm still dreaming!"

"Dat's right, babe, I'm everybody's fantasy fuck – capisci?"

"I don't believe this."

"It says so right here on my back, see?"

Jane turns around to display the words shaven into her thick, black back hair.

"I wrote it there myself after hitting the gym."

Maura squints at the letters and sighs.

"First of all, 'everybody's' is one word and you forgot the apostrophe..."

"Ooh, do you mind?"

Jane hands her a razor.

"Also… it reads, 'Fanta Fuck' – you're everybody's Fanta Fuck, Jane?"

"I ran outta room for the last two letters, my arm hair doesn't come in 'til mid wintah."

Maura closes her eyes and rubs her temples as she tries to comprehend what is happening.

"This is not a dream or a nightmare – this is my brain on oxygen deprivation."

"I dunno what you're getting all worked up about, Maura, Fanta Fuck is perfect – we're trying to land a soft drink as our new corporate sponsor… or do you wanna keep ridin' around in a clown car that runs on sake?"

Sexy music echoes as approaching high heels click clack on the bathroom floor. Both of their jaws drop as they gasp at the sight before them.

"Is… is that the…"

"FIAT 500 ABARTH GIRL – THANK YOU, GOD – THANK YOU, SANTA."

"What is she doing here?"

"WHO CARES?"

The gorgeous model approaches the shower with a jar in her hand.

"Io sono qui per stagione tre."

Jane thrusts her hips in victory as she clenches her teeth and growls the word, 'yes.'

"Looks like I'm getting another clown car."

"Actually, she's here to do our season three promo – she's going to rub a honey-almond sugar scrub all over us as we tongue each other's nips."

"THAT'S going to be our season three promo?"

"It's the promo I have in MY mind."

The model suddenly becomes fixated on the bathroom mirror.

"I don't know if that will work, Jane."

"Of course it will, Maura – after watching this new promo, people will WITHOUT A DOUBT know that we are so not gay for each other."

Jane turns to the fourth wall again and mouths the words: 'We are so gay for each other.'

"On second thought, I just want it to be the two of us – I miss us so much, don't you miss the two of us?"

"I do, babe."

The two cuddle for a moment.

"I miss the two of these even more…"

Jane gooses Maura's boobs.

"NOT NOW."

"OOOHHH, WASSA-MATTA YOU, EH?"

"When did you become a two-dimensional, hot-headed, hot-blooded, Italian caricature?"

"When I found out I was really Greek and German… Alles klar, Herr Kommissar?"

"At least there's no Snooki poof and fist pumping."

"Um, didja forget about my fist pumping in your Snooki poof all night long?"

"What about Dean?"

"EWW, what about dat douche? – I haven't heard from him in over a year."

"You're sleeping with him!"

"OH, VOMIT."

"And Casey… you're sleeping with him, too!

"DOUBLE VOMIT – now dat DADT is dead, he's marrying his sailor boyfriend next month in Provincetown… by the way, guests are supposed to dress as members of The Village People – I figure being the cop is too me, so you be the cop and I'll be the Indian."

Jane whispers in Maura's ear.

"You know how much you love it when I'm the Indian… nothing but hot slots in my casino."

"OKAY, HOLD ON… I really need to figure this out."

"How long is dis gonna take 'cuz I got laundry to do."

"Fine, forget about Paddy Doyle for a minute – weren't we working on the arson case all night?"

"Babe, the only thing we was workin' on all night… was each other."

Jane licks the side of Maura's face.

"Blech – please don't be a Giovanni, Jane."

"AHHOWW, WHERE ARE THESE NAMES COMIN' FROM?"

"So, you're telling me my mother isn't in ICU?"

"Never met your Ma, but you said she's a stone cold bitch."

"MY MOTHER IS NOT A BITCH."

"Aww geez, I thought we were synched up here – I guess it's time for a potato chip and Pamprin run."

A bewildered Maura clings to Jane's arms.

"I'm really, really scared right now… I think I'm having a TIA."

"What's dat, doll face?"

"Transient ischemic attack – a mini stroke."

"Maybe it's time for some maxi strokin' instead…"

"This is serious!"

"Shh, calm down, I think you're having a NEJ/IYM."

Maura raises an eyebrow as Jane finally removes her sunglasses.

"Not enough Jane… in your mouth."

"Ooh."

"Uh-huh."

The two finally kiss.

"Mmm."

"Mm-hmm."

"Jane… gum."

"Sorry."

Jane takes the piece out of her mouth and sticks it to the shower wall.

"Now come a little closer, Maura, and loofah me with your boobs."

"Loofah… did we meet Bill O'Reilly?"

"UUUNGH."

Jane dry heaves into the shower drain.

"He was nice to your mother."

"EVERY TIME I start to sprout a beanstalk, you go and CHOP IT DOWN with words like 'Dean' and 'O'Reilly' and 'Ma,' – keep it up and the only bush full of morning glory will be the one in front of your window!"

"I'm sorry, Jane – I guess all of this was indeed a very bad dream."

"A badly written, badly executed, non-badass dream."

"Actually, it's a poorly written, poorly executed, piss-poor dream."

"Whatever, we're awake now, can we please fuck already?"

"I'm so happy we don't have to subvert our attraction by kissing a giant pink panda surrogate."

Jane hikes her leg up on the shower ledge.

"I got a giant pink panda you can kiss right here – zoo's open… and it's feeding time."

Patrick Duffy as Bobby Ewing suddenly strolls in the bathroom clad only in a towel.

"Good morning, lovely ladies, how y'all doing?"

"Noo, please don't tell me this is yet another man for us to sleep with?"

Jane looks into the fourth wall again.

"Get used to it, Rizzles Gals, it's only going to get worse… A LOT worse."

"Ladies, I'm here today to do a cross-over promo for our new summer season."

"See, told ya, lot worse."

"I know I forget to lock the front door sometimes, Jane – but you left the Very Special Guest Star with No Real Purpose back door open again, didn't you?"

"I don't know nothin' about no back door!"

Jane winks into the fourth wall again."

"Be honest, Fanta Fuck."

"Okay, okay – maybe I did, so kill me."

"That's going to be our next season cliffhanger."

"Ladies, eyes back on me please – by the way, in case the network hasn't already informed you, the new name for your show will be 'BOSTON'…"

"Wait, what happened to 'Rizzoli & Isles'?"

"Yeah, more than a few people have been asking that."

"Heh, let's face it, that show hasn't been around for a long time and this makes a better lead-in for my new old show, 'DALLAS' – get it?"

"What's next, 'SPOKANE'?"

"I'd watch that."

"No, you wouldn't."

"You're right, I wouldn't."

Maura is on the verge of tears as both Bobby and Jane try to entice the Abarth model away from the mirror by offer her a non-speaking role.

"Forget oxygen deprivation, I have now officially crossed over to Hell… how many more dead careers do we need to resuscitate?"

Heather Locklear now sashays into the bathroom carrying Angelina Jolie's right leg and a gravy boat full of olive oil.

"Hello, Maura… I'm going to be playing, 'Laura,' your evil fraternal twin."

Bobby and Jane high five each other while whisper screaming 'YES' to each other. Jane mutters to Bobby under her breath.

"Good thing I've got two hands."

Heather/Laura is momentarily distracted by the bath salts but quickly snaps out of it.

"Since the new season will be all about Maura's long-lost family relationships, the network thought it was important to bring on as many actors and actresses who need to renew their SAG insurance as possible."

"Is that really the reason?"

"Actually, it's to keep the interaction between Jane and Maura to a minimum…"

"And how minimum is that going to be exactly?"

"Nonexistent."

"God help me, how much crazier can this possibly get?"

"Hi, everyone."

Mitt Romney now enters the room.

"Ooh look, the new towel rack just walked in."

Bobby directs Mitt to a corner next to the Abarth girl.

"Mitt, I need you to hold up this towel with the TNT logo facing forward as we do our promo."

"I'm not really sure if I should be in here – there might be various types of birth control in the cabinet."

"Ay-yo, Mitt – don't worry, pal, ain't no need for birth control in this here bathroom!"

Jane points to Maura, then points to herself, and then waggles her tongue in Maura's ear.

The folded TNT towel offers more of a reaction than Romney.

Bobby looks into the fourth wall and directs everyone else to do the same.

"Okay, everyone, get ready – off my lead, and… one… two…"

"BE SURE TO WATCH 'BOSTON' THIS SUMMER ON TNT, FOLLOWED BY 'DALLAS' – BECAUSE WE KNOW MELODRAMA…"

Mitt holds up the towel as the Abarth model blows a kiss.

"SOLTANTO SU TNT…"


End file.
